


in my mind you'll stay

by lucallemant



Category: SKAM (France)
Genre: Accidental Romantic Affection, Alternate Universe, Angst, Blowjobs, Crushing, Crying, Cuddling, Dicks Out For Elu, Emotionally Constipated Eliott, Fluff, Friends With Benefits, Friends to Lovers, Kissing, M/M, One Sided Love, Or Is It?, Porn with Feelings, Sex, Slow Burn, Tongue Piercings, handjobs, supportive best friends
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-03-14
Updated: 2019-03-14
Packaged: 2019-11-17 20:09:32
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,801
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18105587
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lucallemant/pseuds/lucallemant
Summary: arthur b 🤓i can't believe i'm third wheeling in my own gcget a room





	1. gone

"Fuck, Eliott," Lucas whines, reaching for Eliott's wrist as his knees threaten to buckle underneath him. "'m gonna come." 

"You're gonna come? I've barely even touched you, lucas," Eliott teases, even though the fucker has all five fingers curled around Lucas' cock. It's not ideal, the little bathroom they're huddled in and the dry friction of Eliott’s hand on his cock, but he wouldn't trade this for anything in the world. Not when he has Eliott pressed flush against his body, trailing searing kisses along the planes of Lucas' flushed cheeks. "Did you miss me that much? It's only been two days."

Lucas' hips jerk up into his fist, warmth nipping at his belly.

"You fucking suck," he rasps, toes curling as Eliott sweeps a thumb over the slit of his cock, sending shockwaves down the ridges of his spine. Lucas' mouth feels like cotton, and his heart reels when he catches sight of Eliott, _his_ Eliott, a honey smile strung onto the seam of his mouth and a skittish gleam to his eyes.

"Maybe, but you suck better," Eliott says, cheeky, hand stilling around Lucas' shaft. Lucas rocks up, the fabric of his jeans chafing against his thighs with the motion Eliott draws back, hand falling limp by his side.

"Fuck you. Why'd you stop?" Lucas whines, cock taut against the line of his stomach. His face crumples, and Eliott coos, thumbs stroking over the hard lines in between Lucas' eyebrows.

"I want you to blow me. 's that okay?" Eliott asks, and Lucas nods, nods so fast he almost gives himself whiplash, fingers moving to fumble with the buckle of Eliott's belt.

Lucas sinks to his knees hastily, wrestling with the button of Eliott’s jeans. "Slow down, baby," Eliott laughs, carding a hand through lucas' hair. Lucas bites back a testy whine, nuzzling the jutt of Eliott's hipbone as he waits, peering at his boy through thick lashes every other second. 

"So pretty," Eliott praises, perching the pad of his thumb on the swell of Lucas' bottom lip, and lucas thinks he might cry. "Open," Eliott demands and lucas complies, mouth parting to accommodate Eliott's finger.

Eliott looks down at him, disheveled hair and swollen lips, and Lucas wishes he could kiss him again, body practically aching for his. Eliott's thumb toys with the little stud in lucas' tongue, purposeful, and lucas forces himself to not smile, well up on Eliott's penchant for the piercing Lucas had gotten done on a whim, last summer. 

"I still can't believe you got your tongue pierced," Eliott says, hooking his index into the underside of Lucas' chin. Lucas can't believe it either, but here he is, with metal in his mouth. 

It had been Arthur's idea, over a game of truth or dare, with the five of them crammed on Emma's couch. Lucas, with a sloshing cup of tequila in his hand, didn't find it in himself to tell Arthur _No way, fuck off,_ especially not with the weight of Eliott's arm slung over his shoulder and the slurred “I like them, Lucille has one,” that left his mouth.

"Fuck, sorry," 

Lucas is ripped from his reverie by both Eliott's voice and his atrocious ringtone (fucking Lady Marmalade), and he stops fumbling with the zipper of Eliott's pants, eyes wide and unblinking. 

"It's Lucille, I've gotta go," Eliott sighs, eyebrows furrowing as he withdraws, leaving Lucas cold, empty. "I'll text you, okay? The boys should be around. Bye, Lu."

Lucas doesn't respond, just watches as Eliott leaves, following the broad plane of his back with stinging eyes. He has half a mind to tuck his dick back in his pants and stand to his feet, rubbing his sore knees with quivering hands, then reaching for his phone.

 **me**  
where are u guys  
**arthur b 🤓**  
kitchen what about u  
**basile 😎**  
we thought u were with eliott  
**me**  
he left  
he's with lucille rn  
**cazas 🕺🏿**  
huh??? lucille?? doing what?  
**me**  
i don't know lol

 **arthur b 🤓**  
it's okay  
come to us little baby  
we miss u  
❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️

  


And come to them he does, shouldering through crowds of bodies until he reaches the kitchen. Perched on the counter he finds Arthur, Yann and Basile standing close by. 

"Lucas, you made it!" Arthur beams, encasing Lucas in his arms as soon as he's within reach. Yann strokes at the hunch of his back, and Basile rubs at his nape. 

"Are you okay?" Basile asks, and though lucas can barely hear him over the booming bass, he nods. Arthur makes a noise of disapproval. Lucas knows he knows he's not telling the truth, but he doesn't pry, regardless. 

"It's okay," Yann says, this time. "Let's have some fun. As cute as you look when you're all pouty, Lucas," he points to the ridiculous jut of Lucas' lower lip, a teasing quirk to his mouth. "We didn't come here to brood. Wanna drink something? Smoke? We were going to, but we wanted to wait for you."

Lucas shakes his head, nestling his face in the crook of Arthur's neck. 

"No, it's fine," he assures, words muffled. Arthur pats his head. "I'm not sad, just a little bit drunk. That vodka we drank before we came here kicked my ass."

"That's fine. We're here for you, Lucas. Okay? Fuck Eliott," Basile chimes, and Arthur promptly smacks his arm. 

"Dude, shut up. He's our friend too, remember?

Basile frowns, kneading at the now sore spot.

"I was just trying to make Lucas feel better!"

Lucas snorts, leaning back to look at Basile. "Thanks, Baz. I feel a lot better," he says, watching his face morph from grumpy to triumphant. 

Lucas thinks he'd be lost without them.

*

  
Lucas nods off twice in the bus, hands tucked between his thighs. His plan was to skip school and nap the queasiness in his stomach away, but Manon hadn't let him, instead ushering him underneath frigid water and smacking his butt goodbye.

Lucas, of course, loves her, even thinks she's the sister he deserved to have all along, but ultimately resents her for making him leave his bed.

He busies himself with his phone, deciding to text the boys.

 **me**  
good morning gang  
death was never this desirable  
**cazas 🕺🏿**  
i'm so hungover i want to cry  
**arthur b 🤓**  
where are you guys basile is telling me about yet another one of his girl encounters i'm sick  
**baz 😎**  
i'm right here  
**arthur b 🤓**  
i know that.  
**baz 😎**  
wow...  
**eliott 💕 (loml)**  
what's up fuckers  
i miss u guys  
**cazas 🕺🏿**  
lucas misses u too  
**me**  
hey op bad post  
**cazas 🕺🏿**  
but did i lie  
**me**  
silence looks so good on you  
**eliott 💕 (loml)**  
i miss lucas too 💔  
**me**  
maybe if you hadn't walked out on me yday...  
**eliott 💕 (loml)**  
sorry business calls  
**me**  
doyouseethisshitapplejack.jpg  
**arthur b 🤓**  
i can't believe i'm third wheeling in my own gc  
get a room  
**me**  
i miss my room  
i'm almost at school brb  
**cazas 🕺🏿**  
ok love you funky little man

"Jesus christ," he snorts, making his way out of the bus. His knees wobble as he stands outside, a new notification banner grabbing his attention.

 **eliott 💕 (loml)**  
good morning  
you owe me a bj ❤️  
**me**  
morning  
wow, i've never thought about it like that before. and i never will. i've already forgotten what you said, good bye forever  
**eliott 💕 (loml)**  
HEY  
are you mad at me because i left yesterday  
**me**  
i'm mad because you left me blue balled  
fuck you  
**eliott 💕 (loml)**  
i also left blue balled  
i'm down for that ;)  
**me**  
good  
suffer  
also? disgusting (please)  
**eliott 💕 (loml)**  
don't be like that 💔😢 i'll make it up to you i promise  
(i will)  
**me**  
okay  
but i won't forget this  
dick  
**eliott 💕 (loml)**  
❤️🧡💛💚💙💜

  


Lucas presses the knobs of his fingers to his eyes, attempting to rid himself of the sleep that weighs down his eyelids. Last night was both a figurative and a literal kick to his ass, and if he thinks hard enough, he can still taste the devilish combination of red wine and vodka Basile had forced into his hand.

Then, he feels arms around his shoulders, plastic frames pushing against his temple.

“Morning, sunshine!" Arthur greets, Yann and Basile on his tail. 

"Hey. Feeling okay?" Yann asks, a little smile strung onto his lips. Lucas offers him a nod, listlessly curling into himself. 

"Where's Eliott?"

"He said he'd be here soon, in the group chat," Basile says, pocketing his phone. There's a beat of silence before he speaks up. "So, Lucas, how'd you like that drink I made you yesterday? Good, right? I know. I worked as a bartender two years ago, and I picked up so many chicks, I—"

Lucas feels Eliott before he sees him, feels him in the way his heartbeat speeds up in response to the telltale throatiness of his voice and the hand that squeezes around his hip. 

"Hi. Got home safe?" Eliott mutters against the shell of his ear, drawing him into his side. Lucas cranes his head to meet Eliott's eye, lips twisting into a scowl.

"I did. Did you, Eliott?" Lucas shoots back, no real bite to his words. Eliott grins at him, carding his fingers through Lucas' floppy locks.

"Good morning to you too, Eliott," Arthur begins, an amused expression painted on his features. "We've been friends for three years and we don't even get a 'good morning'? This is some Lucas privilege, let me tell you..." 

"He doesn't care about us, Arthur. Sorry that we're not Lucas," Yann pinches the bridge of his nose, dramatically hurling himself into Arthur's arms, who takes him in with a groan.

"You guys are clowns," Eliott laments, shaking his head. "There's enough of me for everyone. Come on, now," he says, spreading his unoccupied arm. "Come hither, children."

It's Basile who steps forth, but Arthur curls his fingers into the collar of his shirt, wrenching him right back.

"No time for hugs, my dudes. We have classes to attend!" Arthur exclaims, Yann nodding fervently by his side.

"The bell hasn't rang yet—" Basile protests, immediately getting cut off by Yann.

"So many classes! Bye, guys. Meet at the lockers when first period's over!" 

And with that, they're gone, a blabbering Basile in tow.

  


"...So, I owe you a blowjob?" Lucas starts, tentative, toying with the hem of Eliott's shirt. Eliott hums, cradling Lucas' cheeks between his palms. "Thought you said you'd make it up to me?"

Eliott leans forward, planting a kiss on the seam of Lucas' mouth. "I did. I might. We can look for empty classrooms," he suggests, nosing at Lucas' cheekbone.

"At school? You horndog," Lucas snorts, stroking at the dip of Eliott's shoulder. "Okay, fine. Just this once, though. Deal?" he leans back, fixing eliott with a stare.

"Not my fault you make the cutest faces when you're under me. But, I guess. Deal, or whatever," Eliott sighs, kissing Lucas one last time before he reaches for the shorter's wrist, promptly pushing him into the closest empty classroom he lays his eyes on.

"Did you miss me that much? It hasn't even been one day," Lucas teases amidst the barrage of open-mouthed kisses Eliott peppers along the column of his throat, eyelids fluttering shut. Eliott, mouth occupied, replies by pinching Lucas' butt.

"Ow! This isn't making me want to forgive you, Eliott," Lucas squeaks, grappling for the little hairs at Eliott's nape. "Look at me. I want a kiss," he huffs, slanting his head back to look at Eliott.

"Looking at you. What a baby," Eliott snorts but ultimately complies, leaning in to slot his mouth within Lucas', who heaves a tremulous sigh and clings onto Eliott's frame for leverage. 

Eliott tastes like honey and feels like home, leaves Lucas wanting more, more and more, and he takes as much as he can, touches until he can't. Eliott grounds him with the muzzle of his cheek, making a noise at the back of his throat. 

"Hey, bell's about to ring. You coming?"


	2. love deserved

"Lucas? Hey," Manon calls, combing Lucas' hair back with her fingers. She feels dampness on her sleeve as Lucas shifts into her side, and finds herself unable to bite back the snort that bubbles up her throat. "Hey, wake up."

Lucas whines, eyelids flitting open with reluctance.

"What? I was sleeping," he mutters, voice thick with sleep. His limbs feel numb with warmth, and he uses the hem of his hoodie (one he stole from Eliott, big enough to swaddle him) to wipe at the drool that dribbles down the corner of his mouth.

"Oh, fuck. I drooled on you. I'm sorry," he apologizes, stretching all over Manon's lap.

"It's okay, Lucas," she assures, pulling him to her chest. "Remember that time you threw up on my shoes? That was far worse."

"Don't remind me," Lucas grunts, upper lip curling in distaste. "I drank so much, I was bedridden for a week after that."

"At least you got to impress Eliott," Manon says, a suggestive lilt to her voice.

"I can't believe this," Lucas pouts, shoulder bumping against hers. "At least I didn't wear pink for a week straight after finding out how much Daphné likes it."

"Shut up, at least she noticed me," She fusses, prodding playful fingers into Lucas' side.

After that, they fall into easy chatter, stopping only when Alex saunters into the living room.

"Not to toot my own horn, but," Alex starts, gesturing to the kitchen. "I just made the best Fettuccine Alfredo. It's like, the bomb dot com. I swear, Alexia almost cried. Want some? It’s all organic."

Manon pats his thigh, rising to her feet.

"Fancy some pasta, sir?"

Lucas splays over the couch, stretches, joints popping, and then takes Manon's outstretched hand, picking himself off the couch.

Manon leads him into the kitchen, arm hooked within Lucas', and the scent of Alex's cooking rips a rumble from his miserably empty stomach.

He finds Alexia leaning against the counter, a sunny smile on her lips, while Alex leans still over the stove.

"I see my best customers have arrived. Do have a seat, please," Alex says, moving to plate up the pasta.

"Chef Delano," Lucas acknowledges, mirthful, taking a seat to Manon's left. Alexia joins them, sitting right in front of Lucas. Alex is the last one to settle, shifting around to finish placing the cutlery upon the table.

"You can eat," Alex assures, and Lucas wastes no time in shoving a forkful of pasta into his mouth, unceremonious.

"Shit, this is good," he keens, watching as a smile blooms on Alex's lips. "What did you put in here? I need to show off on instagram."

Alex chortles, throwing a balled napkin at Lucas' face. "Wipe your mouth. It's full of sauce, dude."

"I'm savoring your dish, have some respect," Lucas grumbles, wiping the thick sauce off the swell of his mouth.

"Sure. Are you done instagramming the food _I_ made? You better credit me," Alex says, pointing a not at all threatening finger in Lucas' general direction.

"Oh, right," Lucas stills, rapidly snapping a shot of his plate and uploading it on instagram. "No need to credit you. Everyone knows I'm shit at cooking."

"Sure," Alex snickers, going back to scarfing his food down. He bites at his fork, smiling at the barrage of comments that floods his phone.

Two minutes later, Lucas' phone buzzes.

 

 **eliott 💕 (loml)**  
:(  
**me**  
big baby  
**eliott 💕 (loml)**  
come over  
and bring some pasta ;)  
**me**  
i thought i was getting booty called  
turns out you just want pasta 💔  
**eliott 💕 (loml)** you are.  
come  
**me  
** what will i gain from doing so  
**eliott 💕 (loml)**  
dick  
a movie  
cuddles  
my clothes?  
obviously me  
**me** hmmmmmmm....  
**eliott 💕 (loml)  
** :(  
**me**  
STOP POUTING  
when should i come by  
**eliott 💕 (loml)**  
six  
can't wait to see you  
my 👼🏻  
**me**  
🏃🏻

His lips twist into a simper, thumb hovering above his phone's lit screen.

"Someone's getting laid today," Alexia chirps, hiding a sly grin underneath the neckband of her shirt. "Is it Eliott?"

"Maybe," Lucas eases his phone in between his thighs, propping his chin on the knobs of his knuckles. "Why?"

"He's a total hottie."

"I like to believe I have good taste," Lucas chuckles, scratching at his cheek.

"Isn't it weird, though? Like, fucking your best friend? I tried once with this one girl, but she caught feelings," She explains, twisting the ends of her bleached hair. "It was a cool experience, though!"

Alex and Manon turn to look at him, knowing, and Lucas busies himself with the rim of his cup, tracing over it. "Not really? Eliott has been my friend for a long time," he shrugs, leaning back on his chair. "It's just, you know, a thing we do? I think."

Alexia nods, understanding.

"Well, I have to go," Manon says, standing. "Nice hanging out with you, dearest housemates, but I have to meet Daphné. Thanks for lunch, Alex."

"No problem."

"Tell Daphy I said hi," Lucas hums, and Manon leans over to press a kiss to his forehead.

"Will do," She assures, waving the remaining three goodbye.

"Right, I'm supposed to be at Emma's," Alex grimaces, setting his plate in the sink. "I gotta run. Love you two. Bye."

"Bye, tell her hi for me," Lucas calls after him, retrieving his phone from amidst his legs.

 

 **me** miss u guys  
**baz 😎** lucas ❤️  
who wants to hang out 2day  
**arthur b 🤓  
** first of all never say 2day again  
this isn't a warning it's a threat  
second of all me  
**baz 😎**  
so lucas can say yday but i can't say 2day  
i see  
**me**  
i deserve rights  
**arthur b 🤓**  
so many rights.  
all of them  
❤️  
**me** bro..... ❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️  
**cazas 🕺🏿**  
#justbrosbeingbros  
**eliott 💕 (loml)  
** 🤨  
**cazas 🕺🏿  
** love this jealousy we're having today  
**me  
** did anyone try the chicken? i thought the chicken was lovely  
**baz 😎**  
ok so who's coming i invited a bunch of like... hot girls  
**cazas 🕺🏿  
** it's my dog's birthday  
**baz 😎** you don't even have a dog  
**arthur b 🤓  
** i'm ace  
**eliott 💕 (loml)  
** respect women  
**me**  
i can't come  
**eliott 💕 (loml)**  
yeah he'll be coming somewhere else  
**cazas 🕺🏿  
** i wish i was jared, 19  
**me**  
when you don't know what was said  
**baz 😎**  
also lucas your friend manon  
**me**  
she's a lesbian  
**baz 😎**  
a  
**arthur b 🤓  
** tragic.  
anyways i gotta dip talk to you later  
let's go lesbians

Alexia scuttles around the kitchen, tearing through the silence that occupies the room as she speaks.

"Luc, can I ask you something?"

Lucas nods, not looking up from the _extremely_ engaging gif fight he's having with Basile.

"Do you like Eliott? You don't have to answer, by the way."

Lucas definitely wasn't expecting that.

He swallows thickly, heart lurching in his chest. "Uh... He's my best friend. Why?"

"No reason," Alexia says, dismissive, while Lucas picks at the tablecloth. He knows she doesn't believe him, and he thinks she shouldn't, anyway.

"He looks at you... different," She says, and Lucas is at loss.

"Is that bad?" He mutters, and he despises the diffident tone that gashes through his words. He thinks Alexia understands, then, because she just shakes her head and grins at him, walking over to ruffle his hair.

"I have to go. You have fun with Eliott!"

"Will do," he says, throwing the girl the tiniest of smiles as she bounces out the kitchen.

"Fuck."

*

At six sharp, Lucas finds himself stood outside Eliott's apartment door, chattering teeth and cold bitten cheeks.

Despite the challenge that thumbing away at his phone poses, cold-sore joints and all, he texts Eliott.

 **me**  
i'm outside  
it's fucking cold  
come pick me up :(  
**eliott 💕 (loml)**  
coming ❤️

The door opens faster than he can _blink_ , and he finds Eliott slanted against the doorframe, clad in sweatpants and a shirt with a huge, ridiculous raccoon stamped right in the center.

"Nice outfit. Did I interrupt nap time?" Lucas teases, eyeing the taller boy from head to toe.

"Can't ring?" Eliott rebukes, a grin etched onto his mouth as he draws Lucas closer by his hoodie. "Is this mine? The hoodie?" he asks, rubbing the tip of his nose against Lucas'.

Lucas shoots him a half-lidded glance, mouth parted.

"Maybe," he breathes, pitching both arms around Eliott's neck. "Might be, I don't know," Lucas shrugs, rising to his tiptoes to push a drawn-out kiss to Eliott's lips.

Eliott hooks his hands on the undersides of Lucas' thighs, squeezing at the flesh. "Jump," he commands, and Lucas does, quick off his feet. Eliott places both forearms underneath Lucas' rear, and Lucas clings tight onto him, gasping when he feels the bulge in Eliott's pants.

"What?" Eliott asks, shutting the door behind him as he carries Lucas inside. "I'm just happy to see you."

"Oh my god, I can't believe you just said that," Lucas groans, throwing his head back.

Eliott laughs against the underside of his chin, laying a brief kiss there.

"It was funny, shut up."

"Debatable, but alright."

"Brat."

Eliott sets Lucas down on the duvet that covers his bed, and the boy immediately sprawls out across it, burrowing his face in one of Eliott's pillows.

"Mmf."

The corners of Eliott's lips quirk up, and he leans over to smack Lucas' bottom. "Have you never heard that it's disrespectful to wear your shoes inside, you little gremlin? I washed the covers yesterday," Eliott scolds, hands reaching to unlace Lucas' trainers. "Gross."

"Shut up, you carried me here. I didn't have the chance to take them off," he retorts, voice muffled, kicking at Eliott's arm with his now sock-clad foot. Lucas shifts once he hears Eliott grumble out a little _ouch_ , and stops when he's laying on his back. He finds Eliott already staring at him.

"Why are you staring at me like that?" he asks, moving to stroke at Eliott's cheek, who leans into his palm. Eliott shrugs, kissing the backside of Lucas' hand.

"You're just cute."

"You're so lame."

"Oh? I guess I'll just leave, then," Eliott sniffles, dramatic, pulling away from Lucas.

"Stop, I was joking," Lucas whines, attempting to tug the taller boy over his body. Eliott crawls closer, encases Lucas' face within his hands and kisses him, brief.

"Hold on," Eliott says, putting some (far too much) distance in between their bodies, and Lucas pouts. "We have a movie to watch, remember? Settle under the covers and behave."

Lucas rolls his eyes but complies nevertheless, cocooning himself within Eliott's blankets.

"Hurry."

"I'll be right back," Eliott promises, taking Lucas' shoes with him.

*

Eliott is a tall, imposing menace, with bright blue eyes and a heavenly smile. His fingers, that trace Lucas' spine with languor, leave sparks in their wake, and Lucas thinks he can't, won't ever get enough of him.

"Are you still watching?" Eliott whispers into the side of Lucas' head, arm slung over the plane of his shoulders. Lucas shakes his head, makes a little noise at the back of his throat, and keeps on tracing lines over the little dots that paint over Eliott's bare chest, like a pollock artwork.

"C’mere," Eliott ushers Lucas into his lap, knees bumping as the boy moves to straddle him. His gaze falls upon Lucas' boyish features, intense, probing, and Lucas flushes under his stare.

"You know I don't like when you look at me like that, Eliott," he mutters, hands settling on top of Eliott's, that rest on his thighs. "I feel small."

"That's because you _are_ small, Lucas," Eliott says, silvery, and pulls Lucas closer, so close he almost can't breathe.

Lucas crinkles his nose, forehead knocking against Eliott's. His hands sweep along unclothed skin, tousled hair, eyes settling on Eliott's red, blotchy neck. Then, he begins to coil his fingers around the band of Eliott's underwear, pulling at the elastic, but the other stops him.

"Hey, I know what I said," Eliott starts, unsure and sweet as always, eyes cast down. "But, can we just stay like this? For tonight?"

It takes Lucas a moment to comprehend Eliott's (unusual) request, but when he does, he slumps against the taller's chest, whose arms wind around his frame.

"Of course we can," Lucas utters, caressing the sharp of Eliott's jaw. "Whatever you want."

*

Lucas awakes to early morning sun, from the gaps in the blinds that Eliott had forgotten to draw entirely.

He turns over on his side, starts to straighten out the knots in his muscles, but stops when he sees Eliott there, tangled in the sheets.

"Eliott," he calls out, stroking Eliott's unruly tresses. "Are you awake? Wake up."

He's met with a throaty groan, a knuckle coming to sweep along his cheekbone.

"Good morning," Eliott rasps, unable to open his eyes. Lucas grins from beside him, settling against the headboard.

"I'm hungry," Lucas says, tracing along the dip of Eliott's temple.

"I have some food for you here," Eliott grins, lifting the duvet.

"You want me to starve? Wow," Lucas teases, the corners of his mouth rising. Only then do Eliott's eyes open, and Lucas finds himself halfway under him, squeaking as Eliott pushes forceful kisses to his face.

"You're evil, Lucas," Eliott grouses, face nuzzling into Lucas' ticklish neck. "To think I was actually considering going out and buying you breakfast..."

"Ugh, I'm sorry I implied your dick was small," Lucas begins, and he feels Eliott's body quiver next to his as he laughs.

"Please don't let me starve."

Eliott hums, lobbing an arm over Lucas' hip.  "I won't. Let me just stay here for a minute."

"I could die in a minute."

"I could kiss you in a minute."

"You have morning breath," Lucas points out, pressing his lips to the crown of Eliott's head.

"So do you. Learn to live a little, Lucas."

"You think a foul-tasting kiss will improve my living experience?"

"I said what I said," Eliott mumbles against the dip of Lucas' shoulder, leaving a peck there.

"Some things aren't meant to be said," Lucas points out, and Eliott laughs.

After one or two minutes of silence, Eliott's phone rings, and Lucas never thought _Lady Marmalade_ could be this nerve-wracking.

"I have to meet up with Lucille," Eliott says after what feels like forever, slinking out of bed and out of Lucas' reach. "I'll bring you breakfast after, if you want?"

Lucas shakes his head, biting at the inside of his cheek. He hates that he didn't see this coming. "It's fine. I'm gonna go, too."

"Why? Are you okay?" Eliott asks, stops rummaging through his drawers to look at him, and Lucas hates it, despises the way he feels smaller than ever, hates that Eliott cares, hates himself for almost believing Alexia, hates himself for thinking he could have _this_.

"I'm okay, it's just— I didn't tell anyone I was staying over, they're probably worried," His voice wobbles in the slightest, and Eliott turns to face him, eyebrows furrowing.

"Can't you text Alex? Or Manon?"

"I'm out of battery," Lucas lies through his teeth, avoiding Eliott's eyes.

"I can text them. You can borrow my charger, if you want?" Eliott offers, and Lucas shakes his head, knowing he can't _afford_ to stay.

"It's okay. I'll just go," he springs out of bed, grappling for his discarded hoodie.

"You can't wear that," Eliott says, and Lucas stops in his tracks, gaping at the red sweater Eliott holds out to him. "You can return it tomorrow. Or keep it, if you want."

Lucas shakes his head once more, heaving an exasperated sigh. He wants to, more than anything, but knows his resolve would crumble if he were to take it.

"You don't have to do that for me, Eliott. I have my hoodie," He retorts, caustic, moving past Eliott, who holds onto his wrist.

"Lucas—,"

"Let go, please," Lucas pleads, tears brimming his eyes.

Eliott does let him go, then, and Lucas almost wishes he hadn't.

He bolts out of the room, leaving a stunned Eliott behind. His hands tremble as he puts on his shoes, not even caring to lace them, too caught up in the tide that crashes over him, seizes his being and makes him feel like he's _drowning_. The silence that fills the house seeps into his bones, and without a parting comment, Lucas opens the door, barely managing to not slam it on his way out.

The first tears come when he's in the street, huddled against the wall of Eliott's apartment complex. He figures he must look as pathetic as he feels, rumpled and weeping for a boy that would never make him his first choice, that he would never have.

Only by the time he's managed to gather some of his composure, left only with quivering hands and vacancy in his chest, does he make his way back home.


End file.
